Icy Gray
by Undae
Summary: He’s always been a bit more clever than the pack, a few mental yards ahead of the rest. But when armed men with grudges knock at the door, and when he's sent right back to knock at theirs, Naruto realizes that he is nothing more than a bringer of death.
1. Chapter 1: One Day

_Disclaimer: I own Naruto. Do you?_

_Why is this story not titled _Bringer of Death_? Does it not sound overwhelmingly more badass? It does, doesn't it?_

_I thought about it, but ended up dismissing _BOD _as too blunt, too irreconcilable with the image of Naruto I find myself describing. _Icy Gray_, on the other hand, is two adjectives strung together. You don't know what it's trying to portray. I might be talking about the texture of Naruto's kunai, deadly and precise. Or _gray_ could veil Naruto's eyes as he sheathes that kunai in flesh, each mark inflicted on others, a wound upon his own soul._

_Muahahahaha!_

_But if you think _BOD_ sounds better, let me know, and I'll change it._

**Chapter 1: One Day**

* * *

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Naruto unconsciously tightened the grip on his side each time weight came down on his right leg. A row of ribs were broken, splintered through his skin. The wound registered faintly like tiny insect bites across the side of his stomach, but at his current rate through the woods, it wouldn't be long before the sobs broke through.

Not for lack of trying. Naruto knew some techniques for blocking pain that were crazy effective, that could numb out sensation from the neck down. But pain was just an indicator, the messenger boy of the biological realm, so to speak. While killing the messenger boy proved immensely satisfying, it didn't remove the problem squirming around his innards.

Fuck.

Ow. Double Fuck.

Naruto reached over his shoulder for the throbbing mass of new hurt, pulled out the offending kunai, and tossed it whistling backwards with only a slight stumble.

The hitch in step nearly threw him off the branch. He jammed his fingers into the rough bark of the tree and turned his momentum left onto the next thick bough.

He paused, frowned at the vague pull in his ribs. The kunai had broken his concentration, and, logcially, he should be spasming in a heap now on the forest floor. Probing cautiously with a finger, he made a circling motion, than rough jabs towards the protruding bits.

No pain.

That was good, he supposed, in a convenient sense. He had enough problems on his plate without having to feel the whole body aching with each step.

But medically bad. No pain meant dead nerves. At some point, when the adrenaline cut short and the new neurons budded forth, he'd be left with all that pain to deal with at once. The human body was messed up.

The terrain ahead opened up into the rocky beginnings of bare hillsides, with only scraggly bush for any conceivable cover. He squinted, hard.

Light.

Open space, then a dizzy climb up an inwardly-slanting rock surface.

Fuck.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Wind whistled past the sleek four man squad, carrying past leaves and scabs of bark scraped off each push from a branch.

There was little need for soft steps, Frog noted absently, while in close pursuit. Especially when tailing single prey, it was useful to thunk down a bit harder on each tree, expend some effort to put flocks of shrieking birds in flight.

Make it known to the target that _someone_ was behind him _somewhere_. His hands grow slippery, he gets a bit sloppier with each muted echo of pursuit. He makes a _mistake_. And that's the shinobi game.

This target didn't even need to be given the same consideration. Half the fun was mostly over, left in the blood trails across the greens and browns. For the hunters, it was now time to simply pick up the pieces.

Frog allowed himself a tight grin. After this was home, forty miles and half a day's journey away to the west. After this was beer, and money, and women. Maybe all at the same time. He'd have to consider this new dark fetish of his, and invit- his eyes widened.­

"Wire!" It came out a bare rasp, a second too late.

Raven's foot wandered an inch too far.

The ANBU awkwardly turned his forward momentum into a desperate sideways tackle, just as the glint of metal grew prominent, and the trip wire thrummed tight.

The team dispersed. Frog took a lower perch on the same tree with his abashed mate sprawled on an upper limb.

Silence, cold and tense. The dull roar of the wind softened into the soft whisper of a breeze.

Frog extended all senses through the foliage, then the underbrush. He kept a mental count to five, the standard delay fuse for an Iwa tag. Then up to twelve, the Kiri standard. Beads of sweat formed on his palm, percolated through the rough cloth of the fingerless gloves.

Numbers. Focus on the numbers.

The wind whistled innocuously past, setting the trees to rustle and sway. Frog dug his heels in on the bark, noted absently the restless shifting of his younger compatriot on a higher branch. Something to tease about later. Hell, _he_ didn't feel too good himself.

Frog narrowed his focus on the wire. It had long stopped throbbing from Raven's first disturbance, and now it didn't do much, stubbornly resisting the breeze.

...

Frog adjusted the aim on the kunai.

...

Sweat trickled off his brow.

...

Now, this was getting ridiculous.

Raven gave a clenched grin. "Probably didn't have enough time to set up anything, right? Rolled out the wire and heard us coming behind him."

Tension drained slowly away.

Frog pulled off a glove, and used the wet cloth to wipe away the perspiration on his brow. He felt a drop of liquid splash on his forehead, grunted, "Don't worry 'bout it, Rave. Happens to everyone."

A shaky laugh.

He mopped up the last of the sweat, tugging on his hair a few times to numb the prickling adrenaline high.

Change of plan. He wanted lots of beer, maybe two women. Slippery, wet delight.

Reaching up, Frog slapped Raven with his glove—froze.

Straightened out to full height on the perch, Frog was presented with a graphic view of the stump of Raven's severed thigh, oozing blood with faintly gurgling bubbles.

A leaf alighted gently. It made to swirl away, shuddered briefly as if in indecision, but stayed stuck in the sticky mess.

Frog automatically dipped chakra-infused fingers down into the wound, ignoring the sharp gasp of surprise from his comrade. He met Raven's glazed, curious eyes.

"This is going to hurt."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Naruto's fingers twined around five, brief seals. He couldn't remember their names.

He gathered chakra slowly to his lungs, felt the gradual trickling of a depleted reserve struggling to meet new demands.

The comforting, consuming warmth of fire centered in his mind, and he relaxed his grip to allow the controlled chakra flow to pulse in tune.

Naruto drew out the seals in smooth succession, brought the last to his lips, and took the cue to intone solemnly, "Katon Housenka." Honestly though, if he had his way, it'd be called the kiss-of-death no jutsu. He giggled a bit to himself, his chakra twisting in strange shapes in his throat. Kiss of death, get it? 'Cause his lips were involved. And people were gonna die.

Chakra gave a final, decisive pulse.

Bursts of fire erupted from his lips, spewed in a wide angle. On touching ground, some spurted out in tufts of loose dirt, but most caught on the dry vegetation and expanded quickly outward, releasing a thick, black smoke.

The gelatinous mass rose quickly upward, yet lingered beneath the sloped, curving roof of the cliff-side. It expanded horizontally, following the line of the rock face.

Naruto plunged into the smoke.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Tiger thoughtfully fingered the taut wire, physically with a gloved hand and mentally by a few rough prods of his chakra.

Up close, it wasn't difficult to identify the wind element imbued in the thin steel.

He looked across the clearing to Raven's limp body sprawled on the forest floor, Frog bent over the nebulous green glow of healing chakra.

"How is he?"

Frog grunted in acknowledgement. "The leg's back on, but he won't be using it for a while."

Tiger clucked his tongue. It wasn't out of motherly disapproval.

It'd be himself lying their unconscious if he'd taken point. Their target was no pushover, even when half dead.

It was instead a signal for Rat and him to peel off and continue pursuit.

Both vanished.

Leaves swirled into the vacuum, the space where two men had been moments before.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Naruto drew in a deep breath. Coughed.

A lot more air went in than he was prepared for, whistling by and into his nostrils as he sped across the trees.

He gave his ribs an experimental poke, grinned faintly at the slight twinge. After the agonizing business of shoving bones back in place, Naruto had the benefit of being one of the few shinobi capable of waiting out his wounds.

His smile waned as the chill of the fading day bit into his bones. It replaced the constant, sharp pains of traveling in bad shape, burrowing deeper into his body.

Screams.

In his head? Naruto wondered idly.

Explosions.

Ah, maybe not then.

He picked up the pace.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Tiger regarded the open range with a clinical eye. The smoke was a problem, given the character of the one who made it. Poisonous?

"Taichou, smoke's legit. Scrub fire hereabout tend to let off that dark colour." Rat replaced the SP counter back into his utility pouch. It was a useful little device, gave off a dark sheen at contact with poisons. Didn't come with standard issue, but then Rat hoarded a bulk of these specialized equipment on his person, little odds and ends that came in useful once in a while.

Blow it away then, just to be safe. His hands came together in familiar seals, mind shaping the fluid tumult of wind. Rat saw the beginning of the sequence and gave a nod. He moved a few paces to right, to establish a crossfire.

Or was it a cover line? Tiger couldn't remember. Whatever the term, the relative position of the two ANBU made it so that whatever enemy came barreling out of the smoke, he and Rat could steam the punk from both sides. Yeah.

"Fuuton: Daitoppa!"

Whirlwind chaos erupted from the last seal, swept the landscape clear of smoke and whatever else was left over from the last smoldering embers of the fire. The jutsu chased gray tendrils up the cliff side, leaving a shimmery haze of heat trapped near the top.

Burnt dirt.

And not much of anything else. Rat let out a slow breath. He squinted at the captain.

"We go up?"

"Give it a few minutes."

They waited out the silence by staring at the ravaged hillside. Whatever green there had been was now covered over by oppressive grays and blacks, both from the aftermath of the fire and from the pooling shadows cast by the tall, slanting cliff face.

Rat felt a drop of liquid splash down on his cheek. It wasn't blood.

It was worse.

He cursed.

"Gonna rain. Gonna be a bastard."

Tiger looked over his shoulder to look at the black thundercloud borne up by the autumn wind. It crawled in dark rolls, trailing a curtain of rain, and as they looked, the cloud rumbled and flashed fire.

"That thing'll wipe out his trail better than any trap or jutsu," Rat continued grimly.

Tiger nodded. "Then we go." He paused, regarding the cliff with a critical eye. "I'll go first, give you a call if I get up there ok."

He gathered chakra to his feet, expelled it in a controlled burst. As chakra ballooned down into the ground, his body cannoned upward, taking him well above the level of the cliff.

Tiger clenched his eyes shut as his trajectory took him through the heat haze and the last lingering vestiges of smoke.

His eyes opened. Widened.

Explosive tags. At least a dozen of them, scattered haphazardly on the edge of the cliff.

Curiously enough, none of them were lit.

As the arc of his jump sent him hurtling closer, Tiger quickly ran through the types of triggers available to most tags.

The standard ones, of course, could be activated by infusing some degree of chakra into the tag, the actual amount dictated by the desired delay period. Then the paper starts burning, rate controlled by chakra imbued, until it reaches some critical seal central to the grid pattern.

Thus Kablowie.

Thus death.

These looked like the standard ones.

Tiger snorted. No _fucking_ way.

Alright, pressure triggers were pretty popular with Kumo nins, right? Explodes on impact or any kind of blunt force contact. Theoretically speaking, this was the most likely choice considering his imminent landing, but the tags were spaced out widely enough, so that he wouldn't have to worry much about stumbling on one by accident. Unless of course…

He hadn't blown away the smoke. Came down blind.

Son of a _bitch_!

Tiger grinned. Not bad. A bit naïve trying to rely on the smoke screen, but not bad at all.

Both feet descended, found the narrow space between tags. He called out a warning back to Rat and gave him the thumbs up.

The tag near his left foot started fizzling.

Tiger gaped. Even as he moved to throw himself back off the cliff, he knew it was too late-- the fuse was too short.

His eyes widened. He screamed.

"DON'T EXPEL CHAKRA TO CUSHION—"

His world erupted into an inferno.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The first stout drops of rain plopped on the ground out of the sky. Water drummed hollowly on the wet trees across the forest and moved out over the flat grasslands. Fat blades of grass turned sluggishly in the wind, and the thunder boomed up high above, and the lightning shattered the air into pieces.

A slight drizzle sifted down out of the night sky and wreathed around the blocky border outpost, hissing in the lanterns sealed on each side of the wooden gate and making the dirt of the road leading up the gate fluid with mud.

Naruto slipped through the gates.

The town was a shabby affair, with rough houses packed tightly together, second and third stories projecting out over an uneven center street. Naruto walked easily through the dirt lane with soft steps muffled by the mud and training.

A stray dog with little else on its mind slinked out of the shadow to bark at him. Naruto turned his head slightly and gave the animal a long, level stare. The yipping trailed off and it cringed back, tail between its legs. Naruto bore down on the wet dog purposefully, driving it back a few steps. The dog wined, then yelped, turned, and fled.

Suprisingly, he felt better.

There was a snort.

Naruto sighed. He tossed up a hand as well, for good measure.

"Alright, I'm late."

A young girl stepped out into the rain swept street from a side alley. "Why didn't you send word that you were coming?"

"Word got caught." He made a snatching motion in the air. "Tortured. Kinda the reason I'm behind schedule in the first place." He frowned. "What are you doing up so late? I promised your mother I'd make sure you got your sleep. You're going to get me in trouble, Haku."

"I've been waiting for you, Naru-kun." Her tone became arch, dark eyes wicked.

"You're not stacked enough to be —" Naruto dodged the crumbling brick, hands making a warding off gesture. "Alright, I get it."

He dipped a hand into the pack slung across his back, fished out several scrolls, and gave them to her.

"Here," he instructed. "Talk to Sarutobi, and we'll see if we can make some arrangements."

She nodded, traded for the scrolls with a small pouch. "Get a room. Stay off the streets for a few days."

Naruto took the pouch, but shook his head. "Can't. Got stuff to do. People to see." He waved off her protests.

"I've got it under control, Haku. I know my own limits. And I can go on a bit more."

She was silent for a bit. Just to let him know. Then her eyes softened. "Take care of yourself."

They stood silent for a while, enjoying the quiet company of one another. Naruto twitched first.

The movement drew her eyes across to him, away from the handful of silvery stars in the night sky, the shiniest of the bunch to make it past the clouds.

He was gone.

* * *

...

...

--

...

_AN/ And that's the chap. _

_Good? Bad? So-so? Personally, I think I managed to pull off 'badass' pretty well. Maybe a little description-introspection heavy. Maybe a little bit silly in tone. Maybe a little bit too dark?_

_It's a buffet. Grab a bite of each. _

_Hollah._


	2. Chapter 2: Another Day

_I suppose I should explain, since chapter 2 can get a bit disorienting. What I've done, basically, is to write the first chapter 1 as a sneak preview, a flash forward, if you will, of what's to come. Say, five to ten years down the road, after Naruto's undergone the proper development. This is not a series of one-shots, though it may feel so at first. So bear with me, here, as I try to put plot to paper._

**Chapter 2: Another Day**

**

* * *

**

A hand gripped a smaller one.

The boy marveled at the feeling.

It felt precariously balanced between a clench and a grasp, lingering on firm poise but shying from constriction. Something that spoke of attitude, and control. You couldn't fuck with this hand. The boy would never try either, as that image was simply wrong.

Thick mud grew at some point into slippery tile, and the boy stumbled. He shot up again with a snap of the wrist.

He felt the rain pass out of his hair, its pervasive drumming left outside of the neat veranda circling the house and shielding the deck from water damage. The potted miniature shrubs left on the deck looked greener somehow than the boy instinctively felt they should be.

The hand bade him stop. It squeezed. Not hard.

Then it left him. The boy stiffened, his entire body reacting to the loss of tactile input by seizing up his stomach muscles and leaving him contracted. His breath hitched, he stumbled back.

Something soft fluffed across his hair, dusting away the rainwater and leaving his spikes jutting out.

"Dirty"

The towel came away streaked in browns.

His mother blinked at his tense posture. Kiba ducked down sheepishly.

"I thought you were gonna hit me."

Tsume shrugged. "It was a close thing. I decided to wait on it, give you a chance to explain." She paused significantly for a few moments, taking in his now dogged look. "I can smell it on you, Kiba. All I really want is for you own up to it like a man."

Tsume's approach had a twofold effect. With the smell card, it first established that, yes, Tsume knew everything there could possibly be to know about the situation. This came from exploiting Kiba's legitimate knowledge of her powerful olfactory sense and his instinctive fear reinforced from simpler conflicts.

Like,

"Now, Kiba, who tookie the cookies from the co-ok-ie jar? Hmm?"

"I din do it ma—"

"Goddamit Kiba, don't lie to me, I smell the fucking cookies on you. Go wash yourself off, and _try_ be convincing next time."

With the second, she called to question Kiba's manhood, which was a sore point with any little boy hovering on the threshold of puberty, and was tantamount to a ruthless knee between the legs in the strictly hierarchal Inuzuka clan. Kiba's honor was at stake. There was no backing down.

"We were slumming, 's all"

Kiba felt compelled explain as the strokes of the towel began yanking at his hair.

"It's like, when you get yourself all dirty and hang out in dirty places, like a bar or something."

"A bar."

"We didn' touch nothing! It's just that, you know, Kenshin's always around there… Kenshin, he used to be a shinobi, but he got his arm got cut off in the Third Secret War, and he couldn't use jutsu anymore or hold a kunai right, so now he kinda just sits around in the pub." Kiba trailed off.

"We."

Kiba's mouth clamped shut. Then fluttered open.

"Who's we? Who said we? I meant— "

Tsume sighed. "I get what you guys are doing. So how do you go from listening to Kenshin in a bar to stealing beer from the tap?"

"Well… he got to that good part where he cut down a squadron of Cloud nin, right? And, and he's got his hands in a fist-full of the Raikage's hair, so the only reasonable thing to do is to get a tankard to wet his lips before he goes on, right? And, and, none of us had any money, so Naruto— "

He worked his mouth a few times, knowing he missed something but trying hard to work it out by repeating what he'd just said. His lips traced the words, ultimately pursing in an 'o'

"Oh."

Tsume grinned.

"So where is Naruto? Haven't seen the brat in ages."

Kiba ducked his head down, this time in defeat. "He—shit!"

He was out the door with a chunk of his hair left behind in the towel.

It wasn't Tsume's fault.

Really.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

A hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"So where is Naruto, seriously?"

Kiba peered frantically around the dimly lit bar, muttering to himself and clawing his hands through the air as if to snatch Naruto out of the gray smoke somehow.

"I forgot about him, ohshitshit—" He rounded on his mother. "It's your fault! For grabbing me, I panicked! He's probably still in that barrel" He clutched at his head, took in breath to scream, slowed, paused a bit. He felt around.

"Oi, this feels weird."

Tsume slapped his probing hands away from his scalp. "What's this with the barrel?"

Eyes widened again. "Oh, oh, he was hiding the barrel from the mean man with the crossbow, and, and, I was suppos to look out for when the man was gone, but you came, ann I." He took off out the door again.

Kenshin snorted from the corner, back to the wall and legs sprawled out. "Kis huh."

Tsume shot him a look, noted briefly the tankard tucked into the crook of his elbow. Very deliberately slapped it out of his grip.

"Weak" She noted.

Then she went out to find Kiba.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The barrel was empty. Kiba peered forlornly inside. Tsume noticed that he didn't have to raise himself on the tip of his toes, and a warm pride washed through her. Uncanny, motherhood.

"He's not here." He was on the verge of tears.

Tsume sighed, ran a hand through Kiba's hair. Winced a bit.

"Follow his scent, Kiba. Use your nose."

His face lit up, and he threw himself halfway into the barrel, legs dangling off the ground.

There was the sound of energetic sniffing.

Tsume looked around. Not a bad place to hide, really. Off on a side street, tucked up behind a laundry shop. Made a hell of a racket, and the steam wisping around had the effect of closing in upon the vision. Probably a favorite spot then. She turned back to Kiba making his way dejectedly out of the barrel.

"Can't smell nothing."

Tsume started to lecture but thought better of it. Not because the scene of her son pouting his lips and rubbing furiously at the bald spot touched a soft spot in her. No sirree. The off red smear on the side of the barrel had caught her eye. It was blood.

Even through the stuffy laundry room air, she could taste the sour odor.

This changed things.

She hacked up a bit of spit as warm chakra coursed through her throat. Her head tilted up, and she opened her mouth.

Kiba winced.

She closed it, absently making popping sounds with her lips.

Then she slung Kiba over her shoulder, and was off across the rooftops.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It was dark, and dank, and the grunting really didn't help.

Well.

It took his mind off the pain coursing through his body, at least.

Naruto glared.

"Do you _have_ to keep mumbling like that?"

The man glared back, through there wasn't much malice to it anymore.

"Hey, you wanna bandage yerself or what? There's a method here, see. Gotta cover up the wound evenly and leave a half-strip at the end, so's there's something to tie it up with. "

"If you hadn't shot me in the first place, I woun't be bleeding now, would I?" Naruto kept up his gaze evenly, and waited for the other man to back down from his impeccable logic.

The man sighed. "Thought we agreed, I didn't shoot you, shoot you. I shot near you and the wood splintered an' got all over the place. If I'd _shot _you, I'd have to be bandaging a lot more than just an arm."

"What would you be bandaging then?" Naruto asked cautiously, lessening his fierce glower at this obvious sign of surrender.

"Figer of speech. I had my crossbow wid me, boy. A bandage like this doesn't do much good against crossbows." He absently gestured at the grungy cloth he was wrapping around the injured arm. A small pile of splinters rested near the side of the crate Naruto was sitting on, trailing red from the wound.

"So… a bigger bandage then?"

The man snorted and cuffed him across the back of the head.

"Get that wise ass removed before I put something up it, hea-?"

The man stiffened. Naruto looked up curiously, before he too heard the growl.

A slow voice trailed down the alley. The canine rumble grew thicker, deeper from the throat.

"Just what. Exactly. will you be putting up his ass?"

Takeshi could barely curse his luck for ever meeting the child before the back of his head cracked against the wall, and his vision filled with splotches of black and red.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"I'm sorry, Jii-san."

His words seemed to echo into the silence, and Naruto could barely continue what he started out to say.

"It wasn't Takeshi-san's fault. Or Kiba's. I mean," He ran through Kiba's protests as the other boy's head shot up. "I shouldn't have taken the cup, and I shouldn't have run. I shouldn't have run. Now Takeshi-san is hurt, and he won't wake up now." Tears started to squeeze through his eyes, but he wouldn't let it. Not now, not until he finished.

"I-"

"The civilian will be fine, sir. Korumaru never touched him, the concussion came from a mild blow on his head as he went down dodging. No need to make it a bigger deal out of it than needs be."

The Hokage sat comfortably behind the desk, hands set spaced out easily against the grainy dark wood. His hat was off on one of the shelves, the robes a simple cut, but of an excellent quality of material. It was hard not to be impressed at the sight, Tsume noted.

It was something in the posture that spoke of steel. The hands, for example, were faintly lined with age, and curled in a relaxed half circle on the desk. But they looked… more solid somehow than the faded sleeves or the dark wood.

Ready.

Tsume couldn't put a finger on what exactly it was ready for, couldn't see tense muscles or smell the gathering adrenaline. She could understand reflex. But reflex is a reaction. A coiled spring may release energy, but it too must be compressed, be first acted upon.

Sarutobi was only the actor. There could be nothing reactive about him.

Then he sighed.

"I'm glad you're taking this seriously, Naruto. I'm also glad this didn't turn out worse." He gave an appreciative nod to Tsume, and a hot pride settled in her. She unconsciously straightened out of her slight slouch. "But I need more than an apology this time."

Naruto's mouth was set into a stiff line. His hands stayed bowed and clenched at his side.

"I need someone to look after you."

His eyes clenched shut and the tears that were dammed against th—he blinked. His head came up slowly to meet Sarutobi's gaze and a tiny smile.

"Hey! I got Naruto's back! I can take 'em on, the Takeshi thing was a one out of a hundred chances thing," Kiba protested, "As soon as Mom lets me have a puppy, er, nin-dog, I'm set, really!"

The smile dissolved into a full blown grin. "This has absolutely no reflection on your skill, Kiba. I'm impressed you kept a level head through it all and managed to brief Tsume on the situation."

Eyes widened, Kiba stood up ram-rod straight, head tilted higher at a military angle, hot tears brimming on the corner of his eyes.

Tsume grinned at his ridiculous posture, then stiffened.

Incidentally, mother and son were now bearing very similar postures before the gentle gaze of the Hokage. Tsume scowled, and resumed her slouch.

Naruto hadn't managed to work his mouth shut yet.

"I'll be glad to take care of the kid for awhile, sir. It won't be too much trouble."

Sarutobi shook his head. "That won't be necessary. Takeshi has offered his hospitality to Naruto for the time being."

"Takeshi-san's awake?" came out, conflicting with, "You're letting Naruto stay with some bar drunk who shot him?"

"For a while now. The injury was hardly life- threatening." His level gaze turned to Tsume. "We've established that the incident came from a little miscommunication. Nothing more."

Sarutobi was silent for a moment. Then he chuckled. "Honestly though, I've been hoping for something like this to happen."

Naruto cocked his head to one side. Kiba cocked his head to the other. It looked adorable, really.

Two grimy faced brats cocking away on his carpet.

Ugh. Bad thought.

Tsume voiced the collective question.

"Waiting for someone to fake-shoot Naruto?"

"Waiting for years to hear from Takeshi. And the first thing he does after showing up is to take charge of my ward. Damn convenient. Damn useful man, Takeshi."

Sarutobi was positively beaming.

* * *

_AN/_

_;/ -- Scowly face._

_Been Awhile. Yeah, I prolly should've fleshed that scene out with Takeshi, since it's obvious now that he's gonna be a recurring character._

_Um, couldn't make it any longer though. Tried. Really hard._

_I like short scenes. They're really easy to write, and I can churn out half a dozen in an hour or so._

_Yep Yep._

_Leave a review, please ;/ -- End Scowly Face._


	3. Chapter 3: Sunset

_Yay! Now it's enter Takeshi-time! You might see the radical 180* in his character and be distrustful as to whether he's the same person. Well, what can I say? He was drunk. Alcohol does that to people._

**Chapter 3: Sunset**

**

* * *

**

Takeshi looked sourly at the figure sitting backwards in the single hospital chair. The Hokage had shrugged off regality like an old robe, and now sat leaning against the back with a hand propping up his chin. It was too much.

"You expect me to take care of him?"

Sarutobi shrugged.

"Well, yes."

"Why?"

"For the same reasons I asked you then. You've had a decade to get used to the idea, Take, it—"

"No."

It came softly, nudging the old man's words off track.

"Why the pretense, Sarutobi? If I knew you'd be this petty, I would have taken up the boy. What I did jarred with the rest of your master plan, so you left him out to dry." His voice grew bitter, the anger rising up in him an old comfort.

"You think too much of yourself, Take." The voice of the Hokage was level, measured. "I kept Naruto as a ward for the same reason I asked no one else to raise him. I don't need another happy family in Konoha. I don't need another civilian or another shinobi to fill the ranks. As long as he is his father's son, illegitimate or not, I have uses for him." He paused. "You were his father's keeper. Now I simply ask you to be his."

It opened raw wounds he thought he'd long closed, and from the look of the other man sprawled out on the bed, Takeshi hadn't fared much better.

There was silence in the room. The birds chirped cheerily outside the open window, and the gentle background murmur of Konoha filled up the void of harsh words. Sarutobi rubbed his chin across the cool, smooth surface of the chair back. Takeshi fingered the warm cloth of the bedsheets beneath him.

"Not him."

"If not him, then who?"

"Me."

Sarutobi met his gaze. Liquid blue eyes faced him down cooly. He nodded. It was a concession.

Takeshi shifted, stretching out his body against the full length of the bed. His hands were tucked neatly under his head as he watched Sarutobi stare back at him.

"I'll take care of him for awhile."

The Hokage's stern visage shifted into a happy grin.

Takeshi refused to match the smile.

"I know your tricks, Tobi. If I suspect you've been planting ideas in his head behind my back, I'll make a mess and run away. And I'll take him with me."

He paused.

"You still remember the last time I did that? Made a mess, I mean?"

Sarutobi nodded ruefully. "Took us half a week to calm you down."

It was as if something sibilant had entered the room. Something primal and dispassionate that leeched out the vibrant color of the flowers by the bedside, and the high blue tone of the sky out the window. The sunlight slanting into the slowly darkening room made Sarutobi shiver unreasonably in the contrasting shade.

He recognized the displacement training, but it still sent a faint shudder up the base of his spine.

"That was me being prissy."

"…"

"You don't want to see me pissed."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The wind stroked the higher altitudes, setting the wires and support cables to skip among the erratic leaves in greens and yellows. Naruto sat tucked away in a small shelf made by the boundary of three different buildings. It said something about the spirit of individuality in Konoha, or the deteriorating standards of architects, his little pigeonhole. The warehouse on the north side was a granary constructed according to the parameters of the guild of Commerce—it had a certain height. The southeastern compound rose imposingly as a rather chic new apartment complex— it wrapped itself around the corner of the warehouse and fell a few feet short from leveling out with the top of the granary. The building to the west was the administrative headquarters of the Uchiha Police—out of all three structures, this one had the most odds and ends on its roof. Technically, it was the shortest of the three, making up in basements what it lacked in height. But where it met the other two, the station had a large stone ledge protruding out of its top. It allegedly helped funnel off the rainwater to prevent erosion of the roof in the long run, but really, it raised the ceiling of the chief inspector's office underneath. Fugaku liked his perks.

All this combined to create a comfortable niche perfect for small critters, pigeon nests, and Naruto. Over the years, he stored up a collection of odds and ends on the shelves, simply planks set on protruding brickwork of the apartment building. The lowest one held a rolled up futon he'd saved up for a few years ago. It was a bit tattered at the edges now, but the stuffing held and that was all Naruto wanted out of a futon anyway.

It was kinda his home away from home. And it commanded a killer angle at sunset, when Naruto dangled his legs off the warehouse roof and watched the gold melt away from the mountain of sculptures and the thin grove of trees above.

He sat there now on his rolled out futon. In his little pit, he thought ruefully.

He sighed, gently bumped his head back against the wall.

A new caretaker.

It wasn't that he didn't like Takeshi. The guy was nice, one of the few people who didn't treat children one way, and adults another. And he'd help bandage up that wound.

Naruto rubbed absently at the cloth wrapped around his arm.

And Saru-man knew him too. That was a big point in Takeshi's favor, as far as Naruto was concerned.

But…

He was used to being alone, he guessed. That was all there was to it.

Well, and that the guy who nearly shot him with the crossbow actually turned out to be someone Saru-man knew, and apparently respected, enough at least to assign Takeshi the duty of watching over Naruto. Too sudden. Too… planned?

That was it, maybe. Watching _over_. He didn't want anyone to hold anything over him.

He'll talk it over with Saru-man, that's the thing to do.

He'd been numbly ushered out the office by an amused Tsume with the Hokage's personal reassurance that Naruto needn't worry, Takeshi'd find _him_. It hadn't made him feel any better. Dinner at Inuzuka's had been thoughtful and quiet, and he'd quit the table early in favor of wandering over to his hidey hole.

The sky was darkening outside.

An interesting character, this Takeshi. Naruto twisted his body down to reach the second shelf, and pulled out a brown, cardboard box. Placing it in his lap, he carefully laid out each item from the box next to him on the ledge.

He'll have to test out the guy.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It was night, and the muted glow of city lights made all the corners soft and all the streets dreamy.

That was why Takeshi chose to take to the roofs. It held cold cut clarity, it was all steel and sharp edges, where the light couldn't penetrate.

Kinda like him.

He'd tossed the restrictive hospital gown and grudgingly accepted the set Sarutobi picked out for him. Admittedly, that was just him being sullen. A bit of residue hostility from the argument.

Nice leather jacket for the cool weather, loose, comfortable pants. No weapons. He had arched his brows at that, but gave in to the Hokage's admonishing tone.

Sarutobi had sternly said, "You're the weapon, Take. And I'm not gonna divert half the service funds to outfit you again. Go find a spoon or something."

So he found a spoon. He'd broken off the top and scraped it halfheartedly against the edge of a concrete building. It was sharp at least, enough slide in somewhere unprotected.

Then he had snorted, and tossed it in the gutter.

Fuck spoons. Fuck Sarutobi.

He was gonna find Naruto, and then he was gonna go buy himself some real weapons. And find an apartment. And a job, nominally at least. He sighed. This was why he hated settling down.

Which brought him to the roof of the Uchiha Police station.

Nothing to do with his superb tracking skills, really. He'd made a stop beforehand at the Inuzuka compound.

Tsume had given him one look, and said "Top of the Uchiha station. Behind the ledge." Then she had rummaged around in the cupboards and brought out a lacquered bento box. She'd shoved it pointedly against his chest, met his eyes squarely.

"This is for the little guy. Open it and I'll kill you, to hell what Sarutobi thinks." Takeshi had gotten the message.

Touch Naruto, and he'd been at the receiving end of two hundred pounds of claws and fang.

Korumaru had rumbled to underscore the point.

Takeshi sighed.

Tsume was hot when she got angry. But Takeshi wouldn't be able to exploit that if she was angry at _him_.

He rubbed the stubble on his chin, took a moment to look over his surroundings. Broadcast poles, a few round chimneys, and that big hulking block of concrete at the back.

He walked cautiously over to the stone ledge and knocked his knuckles against a severed steel pipe jutting out the side. It clanked.

"Naruto? Naruto, yo? It's me, uh, Takeshi. The Hokage, what is it now, the Third one? Yeah, him, he, uh, you know…" He trailed off, and stood looking blankly at the concrete for a bit.

He turned around and set his hands on top of the ledge, hopping up into a seated position.

"I, uh, know how to cook ok. See? I made this bento for you." He gestured with the bento box in his left hand. "It smells great, right? You're probably hungry now, so if you want some, I wouldn't mind sharing, ok?"

The box was set gently on the ledge, and slid across the shadowed length of the block—

It disappeared, followed by a crash.

The sound of a bento box smashing.

Takeshi cursed. It was a soldier's curse, a quick 'Fuck,' followed by three deep breaths. Right. Behind the ledge. _In the hole. _That had better not have fallen on Naruto's head, or he'd been responsible twice that day—

Something invisible split the air, and Takeshi was moving before he could understand why. He heard the brickwork on the ledge go, chunks blown out- it sounded like a sudden, heavy burst of hail. Something yelped, and a body tumbled past him, dimly sensed. He grunted as he hit the ground, a moment strung out as his hand shot out and latched on to something warm. Screams. He ignored them, and was smearing himself on top of Naruto, casting about for the threat.

It grew silent.

A shattered piece of pipe detached from somewhere above and clattered to rest against the roof.

His breaths were coming out shallow, quick. He squinted hard, trying to squeeze detail from his whitened vision, but could not make out any movement in the surrounding shadows.

Shouts coming from below.

He heaved himself up, slung the body across his shoulders—noted the muted yelp as his shoulder-blade dug into stomach muscles. He took a running start, at an angle toward the gray and black streaked ledge.

The roof opened out against the apartment building in a closed off alley down half the length of the station, and Takeshi took the jump in stride, landed on controlled impact against the side of the apartment wall, almost graceful. He scrabbled for purchase on the protruding bricks and found the slippery glass of a window.

The boy went in first, body easily collapsing through the frosted glass, and he followed headlong. Stopped short of falling from the hand clenched around his ankle. Takeshi drew himself up in a seat on the window ledge and hacked down savagely with an elbow. The hand went abruptly limp.

He swung his leg back in, sliding smoothly into a run. Paused at the door.

Swerved.

He scooped up the bundle of arms and legs, and was out the door.

* * *

...

...

Next Chap:

"Who, in the FUCK, gave you explosive tags to play with?"

...

...

...

_AN:/_

_Hmm. I just realized I've been writing a "Naruto raised by Super OC" fic, which makes it sound horribly retarded._

_Only way to solve that is by trashing it and starting over, but I kinda like where this is going._

_For now, that's good enough for me._

_So, err… Do you guys like where this is going? Talk to me._

_...._

_Review_

_...._


	4. Chapter 4: Night

_Disclaimer: Disclaimed_

**Chapter 4: Night**

* * *

A cold night breeze swirled through the edge of Konoha, within the verge of the old surrounding forest. As the road leading from the city grew wilder and gloomier and more faintly traced, and vanished at length, there came the sound of two voices borne on the wind. Two muted voices conversing soberly, becoming more prominent as the path drew near. Though their figures brushed the small branches by the wayside, neither was visible, doubtless due to the depth of night.

Through thick cloud cover, the moon peeked through a thin strip of sky among the arching boughs, hesitant, shy.

Like Naruto.

And Takeshi, really, but he hid it better.

"So."

Naruto glanced at the figure seated by him. "Yeah?"

"What was that explosion all about?"

It was common ground, and evidently safe territory. Naruto grinned. "I sneaked out a bunch from the station a couple of years ago when no one was looking."

"Not looking."

"Yep" Naruto beamed. It had been one of his more lucrative ventures.

"How'd you manage to get them not to look?"

Naruto paused. He gnawed on the inside of his lower lip, eyes roaming the gloom and shadows around the two.

"I get into the station a lot. For, uh, a bunch of reasons. After a while, when Shishui-san and his lot see me there about everyday, they kinda start expecting me, see? They start thinking of me as part of the background that they remember to pat on the head occasionally. I become…" He extended a small hand to grasp at an idea he had an inkling of, which he vaguely understood. It wouldn't come. He rocked back and forth in frustration, food forgotten.

"A fixture."

Naruto blinked. "Huh?"

"You become a fixture." Takeshi let the thought process for awhile as the two sat side by side, in silence.

"A fixture." Naruto tried out the word. "Sounds about right. Hey!" He tried to bat away the hand that had snuck into his small take-away bag of onigri. The snack was dangled just out of his lunging reach, then tucked away neatly into Takeshi's mouth.

"So how," Takeshi coughed into his arm. " how come you got blown over my head?"

A scowl. "The tags don't work right. They explode too big."

"Yeah? Lemme see?" Takeshi held out a hand expectantly.

"Don't have anymore." The face stayed serene, the hand steady as it dipped into the bag.

Takeshi flicked they boy's nose, ignored the indignant shout and held out his open palm again. "Lemme see."

"How'd you know?" Naruto rubbed his face, stopping momentarily to deliver more onigiri to his mouth.

"You found a solitary tag sitting around the station, or you've been blowing things up for quite some time now. Wouldn't be making silly mistakes if you'd practiced more often."

Naruto nodded, dutifully digging within a pocket on the inside of his jacket. He drew out a wad of crumpled paper and handed it over.

"That's all I got left."

There was some kind of gunk sticking the pages together.

Takeshi eased open the first tag and took a critical look at the seal array. Naruto munched away in peace for a few moments.

"There's nothing wrong with it." He invested a slight trickle of chakra in the tag, reversed the flow quickly. "Quality make, actually. And there's no shelf life for seals."

He leaned over with the top tag splayed out to show Naruto. "See, you can think of it as a maze, with a trigger at the center." A finger traced the open ended lines of ink at the edges. "These are the various roads that chakra can take. They all reach the center eventually, but the point is to disperse chakra input to delay the explosion. Standard tag has around ten, so theoretically, all mass produced Leaf tags should have the same delay period. But," Takeshi wiggled an admonishing finger, the others wrapped around another onigiri slipped out of the bag. "The amount of chakra you introduce also controls the fuse. Put a bit less, and it'll take longer to blow. Overload the tag, and it'll explode in your face."

Naruto nodded thoughtfully. Then frowned. "What's the fuse for? I mean, why not just have a trigger on a blank piece of paper?"

"A good question." He sucked out an errant strand of seaweed fissured in his teeth. "First off, the whole process of dispersing chakra also helps suffuse the tag evenly, so you get more of an explosion and less fizzing. That's the whole concept of a tag, actually. A sheet of pressed wood strips that retains chakra and dissolves when the center seal eats out the core of the tag. Then all that stored chakra gets released into the environment. Pressure in surroundings goes down, gas volume expands. Boom." Takeshi made an all-encompassing gesture with his hands. "Sec—"

He paused. Played back the question in his head.

Naruto was honesly surprised at the glare he received.

"Waddya mean, 'what's the fuse for?'"

"Well, I can understand getting chakra everywhere so you have a bigger explosion thing. But wouldn't the delay kill? I mean, what if this guy has this enemy closing in on him, and a tag in his hand, but he's exhausted and doesn't have enough chakra to overload the tag? He then has to wait a few seconds," Naruto mimed tapping his foot on the wall and scratching his head in a ridiculous waiting pose. "for the tag to prep, all while the enemy nin is gutting him and raping his wife? Honestly, more explosions are nice, but they aren't worth it if they happen slower."

Naruto looked expectantly for Takeshi to sympathize with his theory.

Takeshi looked as if he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Hold the tag? What's he holding the tag for? Do you even know _how _to use a paper explosive?"

"Er…point and blow, right? The three P's? Point the tag. Put Chakra. Pow."

It was an interesting point.

Takeshi chewed the thought over, waving distractedly as Naruto grew gradually impatient with his reticence. He recited the Academy's textbook definition from blurred memory, both to himself and to Naruto.

"Tags are part of every resourceful nin's arsenal. With the expansion of the Leaf's economy, and the growth of shinobi trade, the explosive tag has become widely available as the tool of choice in any trap or snare." Takeshi paused. "Notice, trap and snare. Not hand-held explosive. Not that your application doesn't hold water, but you're using the wrong tool for it. I mean, it's viable, using seals to obtain an immediate effect. But tags were designed to supplement ambushes or be paired with kunai. Thus the delay period. You'd need something else to shape a blast." He turned to look at Naruto, who had snuggled up against his side. The leather jacket draped comfortably over Naruto's smaller frame.

"Nice thought though. But the three P's? Someone teach you that?"

"Nah. Thought it sounded better than the 'blow shit up' technique."

"Hah."

The two fell silent, as their topic dried up and it became too cold to talk.

Takeshi felt as if he was missing something. This had, in equal parts, something to do with his rusty instincts burdened under years of a hard drinking lifestyle, the natural sneakiness Naruto had shown so far, and the tendency adults had to skim over what children said. Prepubescent thought was spotty and jumped around a lot, taking mighty leaps of logic where the experienced mind could not follow.

Thus this alien prickling on the palm of his hand, this prodding discomfort that hounded him. A decade ago, he could have easily isolated the flaw in Naruto's reasoning, and turned it around before the kid nodded off to sleep in the warm curl of his arm. Ten years ago, he wouldn't have had a kid cuddling up to him at all, unless it was dead or something. That sounded suitably badass.

Let's see. They were talking about explosive tags, something he was familiar with and felt comfortable talking about. It got Naruto's attention, and, Takeshi liked to think, made him seem a bit more impressive in the kid's eyes. That was good. Hell, the snuggling would be a sign of success then, nothing to be embarrassed about.

There was Naruto's interesting idea about using tags as a primary weapon. Could be useful to look into later.

Here's one. Takeshi hadn't set the groundwork in their new relationship as guardian and … guardee? There was no plan yet, where they'd stay, how he'd support the two of them, how he was going to raise a child in general. Maybe that was it. He hadn't been thorough enough, and his obsessive, detail-oriented mind wasn't pulling punches to tell him that.

He stretched out his back, raising one arm straight in the air while the other supported his stiffened elbow. Against his new posture, Naruto wiggled to adjust and murmured something soft and unintelligible.

So, maybe they were going to get along just fine.

Takeshi paused.

Son of a _bitch_.

He slipped an arm around Naruto's neck, tightened his biceps, and proceeded to launch a furious knuckling against the boy's skull.

"Wahhh! Whats that for!" The boy startled awake, tried in vain to pull his head out of the chokehold.

"Why'd you try to blow me up, huh? Little fucker, almost got away with it this time, but HAH! Can't get anything past the Take when he's sober. When he's SOBER!" He punctuated that last bit by trying to scrape the skin off Naruto's scalp.

"Sorry! Sorry! JUST A JOKE, I swear! I was angry! I WASN'T SOBER! WAHH!"

Takeshi let his eyes flutter close in bliss. Screams, curses, and someone wiggling around under him.

All was right with the world.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Anyway, our Anbu liaison wants you to contact them with a preliminary statement on the scene, and since we won't contest their jurisdiction, there won't be need for anything beyond that. Fugaku'll want a full report, of course." Shishui watched the young Uchiha patiently.

A bored medic prodded around the wound, declared it harmless, sprayed it with some piss-scented gel, glued it shut, and taped a dressing to it. The new cadet sat through the process with remarkable poise.

Shishui nodded thanks to the medic as she reassembled her kit and wandered around to a chair in the corner, then turned his attention back to boy. "Did you catch his face?"

He sat against the wall and propped the clipboard against his knees.

For the first time during the briefing, change broke through Itachi's stoic features. It was a simple flicker in his eyes, as the pupils grew stained with dark red.

"I was the closest to respond, but the man was halfway through a second story window by then. I caught a glimpse as he pulled himself back to resist."

Shishui nodded. For a Uchiha, that was enough.

"Dark hair, strong features. Lanky. Estimate between thirty or forty years of age. No scars, abnormalities." Itachi paused.

"His eyes were sunken, maybe from sleep deprivation or substance abuse, or both. But they never met mine. Sharp jaw, and unshaven."

It took a while longer for Shishui to finish jotting down the description. He read them back to the boy, but paused before the end.

Shishui met Itachi's stare. "He never met your eyes. Was that significant?"

"Only to me."

The two held the gaze. Shishui was the first to break it off.

He nodded once more and signaled the medic to leave the room. She looked slightly offended, but didn't make too much of the gesture. She was the medic. Nobody wanted her around unless someone was bleeding to death.

As soon as the door shut behind her, he broke out in laughter.

Itachi blinked.

"You're not gonna win every one, Itachi. Better to learn this now then later."

The boy sighed, rocked back on the table.

"No damages." It came out at the end of exhaling, a comment to himself.

"None to the building" Shishui agreed. "Well, none that couldn't be repaired. Would've been much more of an issue if our guy targeted the basement floors. This seems more of a warning than anything else."

Itachi looked thoughtful. "Or- a" He stopped.

His senpai had tensed. It was subtle. Real subtle. If Itachi hadn't known Shishui for as long as he did, it would have been fair indistinguishable. Limbs remained tucked in where they were, and senpai's overall posture hadn't changed. But one of Shishui's vices, one of his small indulgences, was that his clothes were vainly formfitting. And now the cloth limned all the wrong muscles.

His eyes widened. "Naruto?"

Shishui nodded, slower this time, as if chewing over the name.

"We haven't been able to find him. The kid's why Sarutobi pulled us back and sent in Anbu."

Itachi straightened smoothly out of his seat, sending the chair scrapping back against the floor.

"You're letting them?"

A deep exhale. "We don't know what's happening now. We had control of the scene for less than ten minutes before the first masked man showed up with the right papers-"

"It's _our_ roof." Itachi didn't growl. His words were stony. A stony growl.

"It's on the roof but it might as well be…" Shishui waved vaguely with a hand. "somewhere else. All we have is a face, Itachi, and pretty soon, they're gonna have that too." He tried from another angle. "Look, they know Naruto as well as we do. They have the same stakes we'd have, and they'll use the same kiddy gloves we'd wear. This isn't a hostage situation with them, Itachi, not with Naruto."

He glanced at the chair meaningfully. There was no response for awhile.

Then Itachi deliberately set himself on the floor in a half crouch. He made halfhearted looks to the door, but recognized the stubborn set in Shishui's bearing.

They maintained the impasse until his leg began cramping. Itachi pushed through the pain and thought about other things. Like a hot shower, a nice dinner later at home. Like hearing his mother laugh happily, and his little brother pestering him about his day. Like Naruto.

Fuck.

"That guy mopped the floor with me." He admitted ruefully into the silence.

"Face it. There was no mop. You didn't even have the luxury of a floor. He took you _down_." Shishui made an emphatic chopping motion with his hand, the blade of his right smacking down into his open left palm.

They stared at each other.

Grimly, Shishui was the first to nod. "You're right, this is fucked up. We're going after him. Grab your stuff."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

* * *

_AN :?_

_Rough Chapter. I scoffed at it when I went back to proofread. But the plot winds on and there's no glaring mistakes._

_So yeah._

_And, Seriously. Someone say something. Am I doing Ok so far? Or are we following chap 4 from a morbid fascination with how this story's gonna crash and burn? _

_Either way is fine._

_And a simple timeline summarizing what's happened so far:_

_First Chap: Flash Forward. You know, as opposed to Flashback. It's pretty much a self sustaining scene, and won't be mentioned again until I write my way over there. Just a glimpse at what Naruto turns out like. And Haku. Yeah, I copped out. Shoulda faced the fire and kept him a guy._

_Second Chap: I vaguely remember writing this. Something to do with Tsume and Kiba. And Tsume's dog. I had to wiki it for the name._

_Third Chap: The first action scene after the chap 1. Hell, it wasn't even that elaborate. Just Naruto messing around with explosives. If I put it that way though, then I haven't really written a fight scene at all so far. I mean, I thought the pursuit in chap 1 was cool, but rereading it, I realized that pretty much nothing happened._

_Fourth Chap: That's this one. I don't think I need to summarize it. But Naruto's stunt wasn't just a stunt. There's gonna be repercussions._


	5. Chapter 5: Dead of Night

**Chapter 5: Dead of Night**

* * *

It was getting too cold. The wind had gradually abated, the leaves giving up their erratic dance to lie upon the crumbling forest soil, as if the depth of night had gradually put nature itself to bed. But the chill lingered in the air and thickened as the darkness drew on. A mother bird perched in her nest shifted to cover her chicks with her down feathers. The slumbering shrew down beneath the tree bough unconsciously nudged her pale, wriggling infants closer beneath her belly.

Chakra thrummed gently through the two dark figures seated against the tree roots, noticeably bringing the air around them up a few degrees.

Takeshi peered into the gloom. Naruto made soft whistling snores at his side.

His eyes caught each individual leaf as it fluttered, disturbed by an errant breeze, and he could trace their path with a finger. From where he leaned against the tree, he could make out only a few stars piercing through the shifting foliage, but in turn enjoyed the dappled moonlight that swayed and shifted and turned the darkness of the forest into the mysterious currents of the sea.

He felt sort of dull. And happy.

He'd been to plenty of places untouched by human traces. Tall, white peaks a few hundred miles above the nearest settlement, with crags that extended out into the edge of the world. The ruins of an old temple reclaimed by the saplings and the flowing grass, its hard, stone edges rubbed soft with time. He'd seen enough to fill the notebooks of a thousand poets and the songs of a hundred bards, but sitting here in the dark, with Naruto, he felt more at peace and more one with nature than he'd been in years.

So maybe settling down wasn't so bad. He'd build a house out here near the far edges of Konoha, maybe cultivate a small garden plot in his spare time. Long walks in the forest. Hell, an attractive, dependable girl to spend the rest of his life with. Naruto would need a mother figure, and he'd be damned if he couldn't provide the sexiest, and the hands down most deviant… that is to say… devoted woman in the whole of Fire country.

When he wasn't out killing people for Sarutobi, maybe he'd have time for that.

"The past is gone, Take. What's done is done. And I could go on all night listing out every wise saying I know about letting go, but I think you get the point."

He tried to ignore the voice. It was on the wrong track, but the grim, sardonic tone resonated with his mood. For a while, the only sound came from the smooth whispers of the forest.

"I'm not asking you to take up your old job." A hesitation, one that wouldn't have been there before. "I hope I won't need to. The scope of your duties is nowhere near as broad as that required during the war. That is all I can promise."

Takeshi gave the silhouette a level stare. It shifted on the branches above him and dropped silently down to the roots of the tree.

The Hokage leaned back against the soft growth between the roots. In the starlit wash, his movements seemed a bit heavier. A little less agile than Takeshi remembered.

He could sympathize. Each successive morning offered one less reason to wake up, when the watery warmth of the sun stewed the body into convulsive pains, and vibrant colors drained away into dull prints. It became progressively harder to find the energy. Lips drooped at the edges, not just from the slackening of skin, but because it was so difficult to be carefree, so hard to laugh in pure mirth. Everyone was getting old.

"So how do you do it?"

"Hmmm?"

"How do you manipulate the lives of people in ways you'll never really understand and still sleep soundly at night?"

Sarutobi was silent for a few moments. He was out of his formal robes, a deep green flak vest instead making him apart of the shadowy landscape. It was a reminder, perhaps, that he too had given much for Konoha, for the village and its people, with the blood and sweat wrung from his own body. So Takeshi would give him a chance to indulge in histrionics.

"I take walks." He was looking at his hands, curled in his lap as he sat leaning against the tree.

"I do that too, sometimes. Helps with indigestion."

"I take a walk around the village," Sarutobi continued as if he did not hear. Perhaps he really didn't. His eyes were far away. "And I see a city that has not been overrun by enemies bent on slaughter and pillage. I see people not overwhelmed by disease or hunger, a populace that is not prostrate from the burden of poverty." He lifted his head.

"We may lie, cheat, and steal. We may send the best of us to die for the worst. But we do so to secure the safety of our home, so that for each sapling that may be cut down, the will of fire, the Will of Konoha will burn stronger."

A howling sound in the distance. A wolf, crying his joy to the moon.

Takeshi laughed, and rubbed slowly at his eyes. "Fuck. I needed a good laugh tonight. Thanks, Sarutobi."

The Hokage had a faint smile lingering around his lips. It faded slowly. "Make of it what you will. Like you said, it is what lasts me through the nights."

They stared up through the canopy at the faint starlight awhile, neither willing to break the silence. Naruto murmured softly, and turned around in his sleep.

"Caused a bit of trouble tonight?"

Takeshi shot him a sidelong glance. "Just a little. Gonna take care of it for me?"

"I have to go through all the motions, since, technically, you don't exist. Official story is an attempted assassination of the Uchiha Fugaku. Naruto stumbled along, flipped the alarm on the intruders. Intruders fled, took Naruto with them. I save the day. Or someone I trust, who can lie about this properly."

Takeshi blinked. "What about me?"

"Well, after the fact, I decide to entrust Naruto to a civilian family for the first time in a long time. You're the one with the best qualifications." They shared a laugh. "Somehow. I'll get the paperwork for that done in the morning."

"And the Inuzuka's?"

"Not an issue. I've ordered assassinations to be carried out within the week."

Takeshi whirled around, slamming his fist into the tree beside the Hokage's head. No chakra. There was a small explosion of splinters, and a cracking of bone and split flesh as his knuckles cracked apart. Blood trailed down in small rivulets following the depressions within the bark.

"Your jokes aren't very funny, Sarutobi."

No flinch marred the Hokage's stony features. "That isn't part of the job requirement."

The stare this time was fanned from both sides, neither giving inches to the raw emotions in the other's eyes. Neither could hold the moral high ground, and neither would sully themselves by pretending to do so. It was a struggle of wills, a meaningless tug of war.

"Nii-san? Jii-san?" A sleepy voice came from the side.

Takeshi was the first the break the stare. He twisted, and scooped up Naruto into a gentle cuddle in his lap.

"It's alright. We were having a small scuffle."

"A scwuffle?"

"It means disagreement, Naruto," The Hokage gently ruffled the boy's hair. "Neither of us meant anything by it."

As close to an apology as he was ever going to get, then. Takeshi took it in stride.

"Yeah, happens all the time between friends. Go back to sleep. It's late."

"Okay. G'night nii-san, jii-san." He squirmed into a more comfortable position with his head tucked into the crook of Takeshi's arm. Soft snores filled the silence before long.

Takeshi unfolded himself from his perch on the roots, ignoring the numbing prickles in his leg as blood rushed back.

"A healthy tree doesn't have bad roots, Sarutobi." His lips twisted into a snarl. "Maybe that's why you frame your ideology in terms of fire. Flames aren't picky, are they? They consume everything you throw at it, wipe away all the little, uncomfortable things no one wants to talk about. Try finding a better analogy."

He disappeared into the gloom without looking back. The moonlight softly limned the pale silver hair of the small bundle cradled in his arms, before it too was consumed by darkness.

()()()()()()()

Breaking out of the Uchiha Police Headquarters was harder than it sounded, even for the Uchiha.

Especially when the station was cordoned off by Anbu.

Anbus? Anbuses? Anba?

Lots of people in masks.

"So, how are we doing this, again?"

Itachi looked sideways at his senior partner. In crime, this time.

"We wrap up our faces, charge out, throw around a few destructive attacks, and run before they know what hit them."

"Right."

Itachi nodded in confirmation. The plan was perfect.

"Mind telling me again how this is better than simply checking out with the guy at the front door?"

Itachi paused to collect his thoughts. Shisui leaned back against the wall of the second story corridor to give him space, and to avoid the worst of the draft sweeping down through the ragged hole in the ceiling of Fugaku's office. Luckily, the boss had been home early tonight, mumbling something about surprising his wife. He'd been called back within minutes of the attack, of course, and had paced through the station at the head of the lockdown deployment despite the pleas of his subordinates and several Anbu for him to stay in the relative safety of the main hall. Armed with naught but controlled and righteous fury, Uchiha Fugaku made an impressive sight in the chaos of the aftermath, reminding everyone exactly why he was head of the clan and the chief of the Konoha police force.

And if Shisui was any judge, the sour expression lacing the boss's fury just might been prime symptoms of sexual frustration. His condolences to Mikoto as well.

Itachi's words broke through his wandering thoughts. "Going through the front door means having our movements logged. Any further trouble that happens tonight can be traced right back to us, so we'll have to limit the extent of our actions to compensate. This can be the difference between life and death." His eyes grew flinty.

Shisui nodded. "An alibi, right."

"And freedom of movement. You're the acting officer on site now that father's been drawn into the Anbu investigation. Leaving now will draw all kinds of unwanted attention- we may very well be followed, if not openly denied exit at the door."

"Ok, I admit, all very logical, 'tachi. But now try explaining the destructive attacks part." Shisui waited patiently for an answer, his back against the wall. Itachi had moved to lean against the opposite wall during his reasoning.

Cold silence.

Itachi didn't squirm. But his cloak fluttered helplessly around his frame before gradually rippling into stillness. "… I…"

"Hmm?"

The words were slow and deliberate, and for the first time that night, very characteristic of the boy.

"My logic may be compromised by anger from my… my impotency."

"Heh, you said impotent."

Itachi gave a rueful smile. "That was presumptuous, and a dangerous flaw on my part, senpai. Please accept my apologies."

"Happens to the best of us." Shisui kicked off the wall. "Now try memorizing this sequence of seals."

His hands twisted around a seal chain, paused for a moment, and went through the motions again.

"Element is water."

Shisui paused to let his words sink in, and repeated the seals one more time.

"Shape is dispersed," He continued.

"I'll explain later exactly what this does, but for now, just remember that it's an extension of the basic invisibility scheme they teach you in the academy."

Itachi frowned. "Will it be enough to fool Anbu?"

"It's dark, and there's only a token perimeter guard." Shisui shrugged. "And they're mostly expecting to keep people out anyway. We could probably flip our cloak over our heads and still make it past them unseen." Seeing Itachi's blank stare, he added, "cause, our cloaks are black, you know. And it's nighttime outside."

Itachi hesitated for a moment, deciding to say something, but then thinking better of it. He nodded firmly towards his senpai, and made to move toward the end of the corridor where it formed a T-junction with the records hall. Shishui followed on his heels, but paused mid-step when Itachi came to an abrupt stop.

"That," Itachi took a deep breath, "that was a joke, right?" It came out tentative.

"Yeah. Well, kind of a joke."

A deep, shuddering breath.

"Um, you really shouldn't judge them by my standards… I tell pretty bad ones." Shisui finished lamely.

Itachi was silent for a moment. Narrowing his eyes, he enunciated in precise syllables.

"Ha. Ha."

He glanced sharply towards Shisui and gave him a significant nod.

Shisui blinked.

The snap of black fabric broke into his reverie as Itachi set down the hall at a brisk pace.

Shisui stared for a moment.

Then he snorted.

He'd suggested on the first day Itachi was entrusted to him that the boy loosen up a bit and learn to laugh at his jokes. He'd been greeted then by a stern, if not slightly incredulous ,'yes, sir', but today, Itachi had laughed, albeit mechanically. He was a little proud.

The intersection held a black vase lined with silver clouds, with stork's heads that poked out each one at odd angles. A dull scrapping, as Itachi slowly slid the vase off the table. Once the ceramic monstrosity was lowered carefully to the floor, Shisui pulled himself up onto the table, bracing his feet at the opposite corners. The added height put his fingertips within reach of the vent on the ceiling masked by a dusty bronze lattice. It was part of the building's ventilation system that dove through the roof and eventually zigzagged its way outside. It was also big enough for any shinobi worth his salt to crawl through. Some called it a security risk. Others praised it as safe infrastructural planning and money well spent on a decent architect. Shisui paused.

"Hey, 'tachi, move back a sec."

Itachi retreated two steps. He took the opportunity to run through the brief string of seals, starting with snake and ending eventually in rat. How it resembled a rat was beyond him. Maybe if he squinted a little and twisted his hand at an angle to his head, he could make out the tail bit and the ears as his pinky?

"Catch."

Itachi's hand immediately swiped through the air, palm flat towards the floor. It bisected the path between the ceiling and the falling grate, and blurred down to follow as the rest of his body fell into a crouch. Fingers grasped around the abraded lattice a few inches before it hit the carpet. The dust remained undisturbed on the metal surface.

Shisui grunted. "Ok, get the jutsu going. I'm first at bat." The upper half of his body disappeared as he pulled himself up the vent, legs eventually tucking against the sides and scraping down to propel himself upwards.

Itachi finished the seals and centered the slick stillness of water into his consciousness. His body shimmered, rippling in uneven waves as chakra bled slowly out of his pores.

A dull hiss of metal on metal, before the vase carefully levitated itself off the floor and set down gently on the table. There was a following clink as the grate shifted itself back into the concrete grooves.

()()()()()()()()()

It was around three in the morning. Takeshi knew this somewhere in his bones, where maybe the sinew kept time against the raw red muscles of his frame.

He was a bit tired. Naruto weighed hardly enough to be much of a burden, but the kid had been sleeping in his arms for a long time. He was getting a bit sore.

No light stole through the windows or under the doors, and the starlight washed over a city frozen in slumber. There were people out, even at this hour, but most were engaged in the kind of business in which it was a rule of thumb to maintain absolute silence.

Takeshi himself kept to the shadows, turning down strange streets and venturing through foreign alleys with only the intention of avoiding light. His feet, trusty old companions, yes, his feet were one of the few comrades who never betrayed him, they lead him unwittingly to the Inuzuka compound. It was dark inside as well. Maybe Tsume was still mad at him?

He stopped at the large doors blocking his path. Smooth, red wood all the way up in a giant arch over the adjacent walls. He thought about knocking, but it was late, and he didn't want to be any trouble. So he leaned his side against the wood, and pulsed chakra through his right hand extended toward the door. It came out at first in dribbles.

He frowned. Snapped his fingers to ride them of the night chill, and splayed them out again. The relentless ebb and flow of water rushed down the nerves of his arm, eating away at the door through the bright blue flicker of his chakra twining around the individual grains of rotting wood.

In a few moments, a perfect circle was set into the formidable double doors. He ducked down his head and stepped inside the compound, careful to shield Naruto's head from the jagged splinters jutting out the wood.

A howl, long and shrill.

Dull unease resonated with the sound, and Takeshi paused on his way toward the first row of wooden houses set on short stilts. Maybe he should hide in the bushes, figure out what that noise meant.

Lights flickered on in a half circle around him, pooling faintly through the thick screen doors in an off white luminance. His instincts fairly screamed at the hazy thoughts trailing absently through his head, so he appeased the voices by diving headfirst into the row of potted shrubbery along the left side of the path. He twisted into half roll that should have landed him back on his knees, but instead sent him tumbling further into grass patch, into the slight space between the wooden floor of the house and the packed ground underneath. Naruto stirred in his arms.

"Owww," Takeshi had his body draped over the boy. He pressed his index finger against Naruto's lips.

"Try not to talk."

Naruto squirmed out from under him, half-heartedly trying to suppress a yawn. "What're we doing, nii-chan?"

And all of a sudden, Takeshi was awake.

Crap.

What was he doing?

Naruto peered at his face curiously, but whipped back around toward the commanding voice that rang through the darkness.

"I want whichever fuckfaces that made the fucking hole in my door, to literally zip down their pants right now and fuck themselves in the face."

A moment of silence, during which Takeshi wracked his brain for answers. The boy's eyes went wide, and small fists clutched the side of his leather jacket. Takeshi absently ruffled the pale golden fluff of hair beside him.

The voice found a calmer pitch. "You have disturbed the peace, threatened the safety, and trespassed on the property of the Inuzuka clan. You will be lucky to leave this place with all your limbs screwed on properly. Kuromaru, if you would."

"I would." A grim, low growl.

Howls broke the chill and echoed under the wooden slats, where Takeshi wrapped his arms tighter around the boy. Dogs, he thought, dogs pick up scents, but Inuzuka dogs can track scents and center in on traces of chakra.

The patch of shrubbery rustled in front of him as something heavy tried to push its way through.

So in order to hide, he'd have to mask both of their scents and disperse the traces of their chakra.

He spared a glance toward Naruto huddling beside him. The boy was quiet- understandable in the situation- but it was not out of fear. If anything, the gleam in Naruto's eyes and the predatory smirk dragging up his lips suggested he was used to these kinds of things, and felt considerable excitement from the possibility of danger and violence. Takeshi felt his hands grow clammy in response. He was reacting as much from the perceived risk of his surroundings as from the boy humming happily beside him.

He was combat ready.

He couldn't afford to blanket Naruto's chakra- he'd have to externalize his own, and the dogs were on the prowl already.

But if what he saw from Tsume earlier that night meant anything, he didn't have to.

He tapped Naruto on the shoulder to catch the his attention, gave his head one last, reassuring pat, and watched alarm bloom on the boy's face as he was scooped up and thrown at—Holy god, was that a horse?

The wolf dog hybrid shrank back from the body hurtling toward her, not from any fear of the flailing limbs, but because the boy was masked in the scent of one Kuromaru had always charged her to treat with respect. She lowered her body so that her belly brushed against the low ferns, and braced her legs against the shock of impact as Naruto landed neatly on her back. Then his weight was gone.

Takeshi cackled as the boy in his arms repeated word for word all the obscenities he'd spewed earlier in the forest. He made a mad dash through the potted plants and dived right through the hole in the large double doors, tumbling and raising dust and finally landing a good ways into the street on his back.

He panted for air, clutching Naruto to his chest like a safety cushion.

Naruto socked him in the stomach. His strained breaths momentarily turned to wheezing, but gradually fell silent as he drew in oxygen-heavy chakra through his pores.

A pattering of footsteps drew along either side of them. Dogs and shinobi, circling and waiting.

A more distinct tread gradually made its way from the compound to a spot left of his head. Takeshi squinted up and made out the fierce features of Inuzuka Tsume. He saw recognition register in her eyes, then the beeline they made for the boy clutched in his arms, soft worry. Anger. At him. Low rumbling grew to pitched growls, and the household of the Inuzuka clan readied for massacre as the dormant mothering instincts of their clan head crashed to sudden wakefulness.

"Kill him. Have care with the boy."

He tried to talk, but ended up making hoarse rasping sounds through his throat. He turned his head to the left, trying to clear out the spit, and dribbled pathetically over the shinobi sandals nearly level with his nose.

"I-" Cough, cough. Dribble, dribble. "I tried to stop them, Tsume, I really did."

Silence, even through the restless shifting of dogs and men.

A foot placed itself upon his throat, and he was gently divested of the fleshy bundle riding on his chest. The girl who led Naruto away by the hand met his eyes and challenged Takeshi with a silent snarl. Naruto was strangely silent.

Then, rough leather ground into his throat.

"Explain."

He gurgled for a while.

A sigh. The pressure eased off his throat.

"The two black clad people who busted out the door." His words came out in gasps. "They ran that way" He waved vaguely with his right arm. He saw Tsume's brow knit in the dark space above his head, and a few low growls emitted from her pursed lips. A weight settled on his stomach, and effectively pinned down his arms.

"Black clad figures."

Takeshi tried to nod, but Tsume's sandaled foot reintroduced his head to the dirt. From the corner of his eye, he saw Naruto's head snap up and his eyes widen.

"I-arsh cuhh, cuhh, cuhhh" Dry heaving "cuhhh…I overheard, whiny bastards the lot of them, I overhead them discussing a plot to assassinate the Hokage."

The dark figures circling the two of them had fallen still. Naruto fidgeted, and seemed to want to approach, but the arms encircling the boy's waist were implacable. And feminine. Deliciously feminine.

Takeshi shook the thoughts out of his head. Fuck arms. He had a delightful view up the leg of Tsume's trousers, after all.

Said woman leaned her weight forward, and for a while, too much blood swarmed into his head for Takeshi to enjoy it properly.

"So, let me get this straight." Tsume growled, lowering her head so that their noses were almost touching. Her sandaled foot ground further into his throat. Gods, that woman was limber. "Assassins conspiring to kill the Hokage in the Inuzuka clan compound broke out the door, trampled over you, who, by some strange quirk of chance, was standing conveniently inside, and left you alive to inform me of the plot?"

"I also overheard their names."

Takeshi was dimly aware of Naruto straining eagerly forward against the girl's murmured pleas and shapely arms. They were the only pair that seemed to take an interest in the proceedings. The dogs had settled down on their haunches and their human companions were rubbing them down, evidently dismissive of him as a threat. Takeshi felt vaguely offended.

He also felt saliva trail down the right side of his chin. Not his own. He was drooling out of the corner of his mouth from the choking pressure on his throat, but the thin string of spit on his chin dangled from the bared fangs looming horribly within his vision.

"You heard." She. It. It paused. "Their names."

He nodded furiously. "The first guy called the other one 'Parental Inexperience'."

She blinked. A strange hitch in the air, as the quiet growls and whining of clan conversation suddenly halted to examine this new curiosity.

"And, and, the other guy named the first one 'Nohouse nomoney'."

She blinked again. Then the weight came off, and he was able to inhale properly once again.

Glowing brown eyes studied him in the darkness. He risked a peek toward his left and saw Naruto scrunching up his nose, trying to puzzle out the strange names of the phantom assassins.

Brown eyes softened.

Tsume snorted, grabbed a limp arm and dragged him bodily off the ground.

"Fucking Iwa nin, right? You should have said." She nodded toward Naruto. "You're lucky, brat. Those assassins might have hurt you if Takeshi-san here wasn't around." Low snickers, and a few guffaws as his little scheme came to light.

Takeshi ignored them. He had a place to stay in for the night. Maybe a free dinner if he was lucky.

A weight tackled him in the lower back, almost driving him back into the dirt. It clambered up his waist and settled comfortably on his shoulders, nuzzling him as it tried to find a snug position.

It whispered softly into his ear. "Thanks, nii-chan."

And Naruto still thought he was awesome.

Tsume had a strange look on her face, but turned aside before she met his eyes. "Hana, bring him in, will you? Get him settled in one of the spare rooms. Or stick him with Kiba. Probably awake by now."

* * *

...

...

...

_AN:/ Admittedly, that last scene wasn't all that well-written. Mostly because I hastily tacked it on to make this chapter longer than the other ones, in order to attract more reader reviews. I know, shameless, huh. According to fellow fanfic-ers, they usually won't touch anything with less than 10k words per chapter. In order to beef up my work count while hopefully improving the quality of the writing, while keeping the patchwork plot intact, I took bit longer this time before updating. _

_Holler._


End file.
